


Gambling - Full Fic

by Lyndis



Series: Vegas AU [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vegas, Care Kink, Gambling, Lap Sitting, M/M, Neil is a bit bratty at times, Slow Burn, gambler!andrew, hooker!neil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyndis/pseuds/Lyndis
Summary: Neil is a hooker in Las Vegas and struggles to make ends meet. So when an opportunity arises to earn easy money by just sitting in someone's lap, he can't not take it. Even if his new John seems anything but harmless.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Vegas AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074182
Comments: 68
Kudos: 267





	1. First meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is the multichaptered full fic around the PWP One Shot 'Gambling' I wrote earlier this year. Have fun!  
> I am having a lot of fun writing it.

“How much for the next six to eight hours?”

Neil looked up from the bourbon in his hand. Technically he couldn’t afford it, but just drinking water wasn’t an option and he had to look like he wasn’t desperate for money so he could afford to buy food.

“You a cop or something?”, he snapped back, because being spoken to by a potential client wasn’t the normal procedure. Only a cop or someone really desperate or naive did such a thing. Or someone so fucking confident that he just didn’t care.

“No”, the stranger said, his tone bored. No fidgeting, no blushing, no sign of feeling uncomfortable in this situation, but also no sign of being used to such conversations. This guy was dangerous.

His broad shoulders and muscled arms told the same story. Psychopaths usually were able to adapt to their surroundings, Neil knew enough of them to know that fact. The apathetic expression on the other man’s face was either real apathy - which was highly doubtful because apathy didn’t desire a hooker - or it was a mask. Masks could hide a lot and different masks came with different things to hide. Being self-conscious was masked with over confidence, great gestures or talking too much, getting in someone else’s space and even bullying the weaker. People trying to mask self-consciousness often couldn’t stop talking about themselves and their achievements, their status and so on. It often matched with people who really thought too much of themselves, probably because a too big ego was desired by those who had none.

Depressed people had a lot of masks to cope with their condition. Sometimes they were the most productive people in their department because they were unable to let another being down and then they went home and cried until they fell asleep, their apartments a mess their fridges empty because they hadn’t the capacities left to tend to themselves. Sometimes they were exactly what the situation needed. Fitting into the role that was expected of them, because they couldn’t stand the thought to be cast out by a group. Sometimes they were loud and angry - destructive, because they hurt so much they couldn’t keep it in, because they hated their own existence but couldn’t escape and therefore lashed out. Other times they were silent, just wanted to be left alone. They did what they had to do but nothing more. Depression came with a lot of masks, so indifference could be one of them, but the man in front of him took up too much space for that. Not literally because he was even smaller than Neil. But around him was a kind of aura that kept people away. Even Neil could feel it.

Violent people could be like psychopaths, could fit right in.  _ The friendly neighbour beat his wife? Not possible!  _

But Neil knew another mask of violent people: The ones that weren’t psychopaths but committed crime on a regular basis. They died inside or they told themselves they did. In reality they just kept their feelings hidden from themselves.

It sounded like a cliché but Neil had seen it happen a lot of times with teenagers in gangs.

He could be wrong on all of this, but if Neil had to put a finger on the alarmed feeling he got from the person in front him, he would bet on masked violence.

“You can’t afford me for this long”, Neil dismissed him. He wouldn’t get into a closed room with this guy.

“You think I would be here if I didn't have money to spend?”

_ Well, yes _ , Neil thought by himself. A lot of desperate losers came into the bright casinos of Las Vegas, with money they should spend on the mortgages of their houses or on their families. Instead they came here because it was fun to lose money they didn’t have in the first place or because they dreamed of the big price. Because someone had to win and why not them?

“I don’t do scenes that long then. Not interested.”

“Not a scene”, the man corrected. “Just you sitting on my lap while I gamble.”

Neil scoffed: “I’m neither into cockwarming nor into exibitionism. Find someone else.”

The expression of the stranger changed minutely. He seemed… angry? Neil prepared himself to throw his glas at the stranger and run if he got violent.

“Don’t be stupid”, the man snarled. “I won’t touch you. You literally just have to sit in my lap. You don’t touch me, I won’t fuck you and I’ll pay you beforehand.”

Wait… what?

“You are fucking kidding me.”

“I am neither fucking you nor do I joke.”

What the actual fuck? Was he drunk? Did someone give him drugs? This crazy fucker wanted a hooker to sit on his lap all night. What kink was that?

Besides… Neil didn’t even know if he could do this. He wasn’t someone who usually sat still for that long.

“Why?”, he asked, suspicious.

“I don’t pay for something I could have for free, so calm the fuck down. Why I want you to do this isn’t your concern, though. Yes or no? Tell me your price, I can afford it.”

Neil was curious. Not good. Curiosity did get him in too much trouble over and over again. So he named a price that no one would pay just for having someone sitting on him for a few hours.

The stranger accepted.


	2. First time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I can't keep this while it is sitting finished in my one drive XD  
> You will get chapters as soon as they are finished, because I am crap with schedules. But it means that the upload schedule is pretty inconsistent. Sometimes I write three chapters in one day, sometimes I go weeks without writing a word.  
> Just so you be warned.  
> I will never post more than one chapter a day, but everything between daily and yearly is possible.  
> So just sit back, relax and have fun with me, while we discover this together :D

“What’s your name?”

They sat at a roulette table, his new John losing more and more money. It didn’t seem to trouble him, though. Nevertheless, Neil was really glad he had paid him up front. Had paid him a price he could live an entire week from. In Vegas. That was a fucking lot.

“For what you paid me, you can call me whatever you want.”, he whispered, so no one would notice his role here. He was only allowed to drape one arm around his shoulders, so he could balance himself.

“Not what I asked”, the man answered, while looking at the still moving roulette. Neil watched his pupils dilate, while the white ball did his last jumps. His John got a small amount of chips and seemed pleased, even though it clearly didn’t make up for everything he lost so far.

“Steven, then”, Neil said and felt the body beneath him stiffen a bit.

“Not your real name, though.”

Neil huffed a quiet laugh at that. “Of course not. You think I’m stupid?”

The man bet again and then flicked his gaze to Neil for the first time, since they started this. It was only a moment, like he couldn’t look away from the table for more than a second. Interesting.

“At least give me a name that wasn’t moaned at you at some point.”

Not so interesting.

“You ashamed of what I am?”, Neil teased. “You some big business guy that can’t be seen with a cheap, dirty hooker?”

“You are a lot of things, but certainly not cheap. And I don’t care what others think. Just give me another damn name.”

Neil was pretty sure this had something to do with him being a hooker, but he didn’t want to blow this just now. It  _ was _ easy money after all and if he didn’t want to be bored out of his mind all night he should keep the other man talking and on his good side.

“Alex”, he gave him and Neil grinned when his John sent him a murderous look. “It’s true! Never used that name.”

Alex was a good hooker name if you wanted to keep up some kind of coy or bratty persona. Neil didn’t want that, so he went for more serious sounding names like Steven.

“Idiot.”

Yeah, maybe he was, because it was kind of easier to get a new client with specific personas, but Neil tried to steer away from difficult scenes. He had his hands full keeping up the act of liking sex without ever expieriencing the feeling. And there was this thing with his scars, too, which seemed to invite sadists a lot and he didn’t want to encourage that further. So, the number of possible clientele for him was pretty small.

“What’s yours?”, Neil asked in return.

“Andrew.” That came immediate, which meant either  _ Andrew _ had thought of that beforehand, or: “Is that your real name?!”

“Yes,  _ Alex _ . There are people on this earth who don’t need to hide behind false names.”

_ Interesting. _ But before he could play this further, one of the waiters came to their table. Andrew ordered himself Whiskey without ice - good man - and then looked at Neil. Neil blinked back. That was the first time Andrew really looked away from the table in front of them.

“What?”, Neil asked after at least ten seconds of dire silence, the waiter still … well …  _ waiting. _

Andrew looked as if he wanted to murder him and for once he really hadn’t any clue why.

“Order something.”

Neil blinked. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

The waiter nodded and wanted to retreat again, but Andrew stopped him. He just held up a hand. He didn’t even look away from Neil.

“The last thing you drank was bourbon and even that was over two hours ago.”

Two hours? Ha… he lost his feeling for time there for a bit. Curious.

But Neil couldn’t afford another expensive drink. Even the water here cost more than he was willing to pay.

“No, really… I’m f…” But he wasn’t able to finish the sentence, before Andrew’s harsh voice interrupted him:

“When did you last eat?”

“What?” Andrew only looked at him and Neil began to squirm. He was so dumbfounded he forgot to lie: “I had breakfast.”

Andrew sighed and huffed as if he was the most troublesome creature walking on this earth.

“You will either order something non-alcoholic to drink and something to eat or you can go. Did I make myself clear?”

“Listen, you…”

“Did I make myself clear?”

Neil ground his teeth together. Who did this shitbag think he was? Ordering Neil around like some kind of servant; like some kind of…  _ whore.  _ Damnit. He hated when people did that. As if he wasn’t a human being anymore, only because of his job. As if allowing others to touch him or being touched by him made him into something lesser.

“Fine”, he ground out. “I’ll take water, flat. And one of the salads.”

The waiter held out a menu for him to choose from and he picked the one with goat cheese and rucola and raspberries.

It was far too expensive, but he couldn’t risk a public scene. He would do this never again. Andrew could pay him double as far as he was concerned, but he wouldn’t do it again.

“Stop that”, Andrew warned him, while already facing the table again. Neil only scowled and after a few more seconds later, he felt a firm hand around his waist.

“Stop squirming.”

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

“I was under the impression you didn’t like men.”

Again Andrew’s gaze landed on him, one of his eyebrows raised: “First of all, physical stimulation like  _ friction _ works even with a mattress and as far as I know these don’t have a gender. Second: what gave you the impression?”

“You didn’t want sex, just someone to sit on your lap. I assumed you picked a guy so you wouldn’t be tempted, or embarrassed when the lack of physical distance would get to you.”

Andrew seemed bored by this revelation and went back to gambling.

The hand around his waist disappeared as soon as he stopped moving and reappeared when his salad came, so he was able to eat with both hands without risking to lose his balance. After ordering him around, this was a nice change.

The next two hours Andrew forced three more glasses of water on Neil and then another glass of bourbon. When his bladder started to protest, Neil started to understand what this was. Sick fucker was into this kind of play. The deal was six to eight hours straight of lapsitting and they were at merely four hours. The last two to four hours would be torture. Neil tried to hold still, but it was the hardest thing he had done for a long time. Having sex was nothing compared to sitting still with an overfull bladder, without being allowed to move, to shift the pressure.   
It reminded him of the days with his father, back when he had been a child trying not to squirm while sitting through awfully dull dinners with business partners of his father. He knew he began to shake ever so slightly under the task to hold still and the memories flooding his thoughts. He hated Andrew. Of course there had been a- …

“I need a break”, came the calm voice of his John and the slightest push at his knee to indicate him to stand up. “Meet me in fifteen at the bar.”

Neil stood up, surprised when he had to hold onto the table because his knees were numb. That never had happened before and it was the strangest feeling, because he didn’t feel nerves in his knee usually. He didn’t now either, but they just wouldn’t work properly. Only after a few seconds he felt the feeling coming back.

Andrew shot him a very strange, dark look, as if he wanted Neil to remember to behave himself. “Fuck you”, he just shot back, which made Andrew turn around an leave somewehre into the crowd. Unphased, uninterested. He hated this asshole.

He needed a few more seconds until he was able to stand on his own again, then he rushed to the toilet to release himself.

While he was paid for his time he made sure to keep his promises, so he showed up very punctually at the bar.

Andrew was chatting with one of the barkeepers in a low voice but stopped as soon as he saw Neil. He pushed a fruit salad to him and some potato wedges with a salsa dip.

“Eat.”

Neil only dug in because his stomach was growling again, hoping Andrew wouldn’t have set all this on his tap.

The food in this casino was good. Not like what they served in the really high roller casinos but better than in most restaurants around.

When he was finished Andrew ordered him another bourbon and water, ordered himself whiskey and when they were done got back to the roulette table.

The rest of the night went by without another incident.

“You know”, Neil tried after they stood up again and were on their way to the exit. “I have a room booked for tonight.”

He hated that room. Not particularly because what happened in there, but because it cost so fucking much. If he wouldn’t get a client up there he would give the room to a fellow hooker, one that worked the really late - or early - crowds and they would split the cost. Andrew made up for his half of the night and more, but if he could get him up there, it would be extra money. Easy money, really, because after all, Andrew seemed at least halfway decent.

“I said no fucking”, reminded Andrew in a sharp voice and Neil let it go. He wouldn’t push. He just nodded and held up a hand in goodbye, then turned around to head back to the bar to pay his tap.

Andrew was long out of sight when the barkeeper told him that all his expenses were covered already.


	3. Not down for this

“How much for six to eight hours?”

Neil hadn’t been working the last two days, instead rested and tended to himself. The first night he was back at the casino, of course Andrew showed up again. The same forward attitude as last time. Shameless and with a nearly blank expression on his face.

“Will you shove water and food down my throat again?”, Neil asked.

“If I have to, yes”, Andrew answered without missing a beat.

“Then you can’t afford me.”

“Try me.”

Neil pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to do it again. He had felt creeped out after last time. Andrew didn’t do anything suspicious, he even had paid for the food and drinks, but nothing in life was that easy. Neil waited for the other shoe to drop.

“I am sure you will find some other twink who is very willing to sit on your lap and die of boredom.”

“You aren’t a twink.”

Neil blinked and cocked his head, sipping on his trademark bourbon. “A brat then. I’m sure there are enough of them, too.”

“Don’t say stupid things.”

Neil huffed angrily. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but I am not down for it. You said you wouldn’t pay for something you could have for free, so don’t. There are a lot of people who would die to sit on your lap.”

He wasn’t blind after all. He made a hand gesture, meaning all of Andrew’s appearance. He was broad shouldered, muscular, had beautifully brown eyes that shimmered golden in the neon lights of the casino and the overall bad boy image would do the rest.

“If I wanted someone who wants to sit on my lap, that would be a great plan.”, Andrew deadpanned and Neil was dumbfounded.

Yeah, well. That was a good reason to pay for it. But there was one huge mistake…

“You think I don’t want to do it?”

The look Andrew gave him was answer enough. Okay, he might have said he didn’t want to do it. But that wasn’t the point.

“Look, asshole”, he started. “I don’t know where you come from, being able to throw around hundreds of dollars several nights a week, but where I come from, dignity is still a thing. You might buy my services, but I won’t do anything I don’t want to. Not if it’s only money I get in return. I can live without it, if I have to. Everything I do is of my own free will. We make a contract, a deal. You get from it what you want and I get from it what I want and no one does anything he doesn’t feel okay with. Don’t think you own me, just because you throw some money at me.”

He hated these assholes. He hated them so much.

But to Neil’s surprise Andrew didn’t get angry or violent or went away. Instead he relaxed a bit. The tension in his shoulders easing.

“So, if you are ‘not down for my deal’ whatever that actually means, what are you down for? It’s the same request as last time. Sit on my lap for the next hours and we are good.”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “No one spends so much money on someone just for sitting on him. You didn’t even get a hardon out of it. Nothing is that easy.”

“What do you need to trust that it is that easy?”, Andrew asked in return, talking like a businessman now. As if he understood this was a transaction based on trust.

“Tell me why you are doing this.”

“Still none of your business. It is nothing sexual, if that puts you more at ease.”

“Something else shady, then.”

Andrew’s eyes went dangerously dark at that. “No. I just need someone who follows my rules. As you said, it is a deal. You don’t hold up your end, I can throw you to the curb, no questions asked.”

Neil’s first instinct was to ask what the fuck that meant, when he remembered the actual rules, which he never really saw as such. No touching, no squirming, no sex, no one who  _ wanted _ to sit on his lap.

“Oh”, Neil breathed, as he finally understood. Andrew didn’t want anyone who might get the false idea and then won’t understand a ‘No’ without making a fuss or a scene or worse. Neil knew first hand what a ‘No’ could bring forth in people.

“Okay”, he then said.

“So, how much?”   
Neil gave him the same price as last time, plus the promise to pay for his expenses again, if he insisted on feeding him.

They sat at a craps table this time, getting wolf whistles as Neil sat down on Andrew’s lap. Having a good luck charm at this game wasn’t that uncommon.

If Andrew was superstitious? Was that the reason he needed Neil? Something told him, that wasn’t it.

It wasn’t that different from the last time, but Neil got bored pretty quick. It was nice to watch Andrew gamble, but it wasn’t enough to hold his interest. It got hard to sit still fairly quick and this time, without the adrenalin of a new situation, he noticed the strain this position put on his body. After two hours he suddenly wasn’t surprised that Andrew was willing to pay that much money for such an easy task: it wasn’t easy.

“You okay?”, came the unexpected question from his client. “You are way more quiet then last time.”

This should be his cue to start a conversation, but he wasn’t talkative. He wasn’t good at making conversation, even if he was bored out of his mind.

“I’m fine.”

That should be the end of it, but while Andrew’s gaze never left the table in front of him, he seemed to have some focus left for Neil. And against all odds, it was Andrew who started up a conversation: “What do you think my job is?”

Neil was dumbfounded by this to say the least. Why? What gained Andrew out of this? Was he bored, too? But why would he be at the table then? That didn’t make sense. And Neil could see his pupils dilate every now then, when a particular good or even bad throw happened. Neil could feel muscles contract, when Andrew anticipated the result of his throw. That wasn’t bored.

But Neil took the bait, because he really hadn’t anything else to do.

“You have a job?”, he teased, because of course he would. He smirked, but sadly it didn’t bring Andrew to look at him. He wasn’t even answering.

“I don’t know… you have so much money, what about drug lord? You kind of have the aesthetic already.”

No reaction either. Huff… more imaginable then.

“Okay, for real. I thought you might throw your inheritance out the window or something.”

No reaction.

“But if you really have a job, it has to make lots and lots of money. So… neurosurgeon?”

“Too much responsibility”

Ha! That was better. So if he played the game, Andrew would give him actual answers. Interesting. And a fun pass time. 

“Inner Circle of the Secret Service?”

That gave him such a murderous look, that Neil couldn’t suppress a grin. “Hey, they have to get a lot of money, don’t they? I mean… they risk their lives on a daily basis. I hope they at least get money out of it.”

Andrew looked back at the table and shrugged: “Too little holiday, I guess.”

“But you would totally fit the aesthetic”, Neil claimed, and got a short glance for it. Everytime he got Andrew to actually look away from the table felt like a huge win.

“You are awfully focused on my aesthetic tonight. You suddenly attracted to me? All it took was some food and an overpriced session for you to fall for me?”

Neil snorted at that, kicking one leg out, because he wasn’t allowed to punch this guy in the shoulder.

“You wish, asshole. You are just very different from my other clients. All in black, not wearing a suit and all grumpy and mysterious. You seem like you have to pretend to be someone and you couldn’t care less about your reputation at the same time. It’s interesting.”

“Interesting…”, Andrew repeated absentmindedly. Then he shook his head slightly and made a hand gesture for Neil, who didn’t understand at first, before he realised that he wanted him to make further conversation.

“So… nothing with too much responsibility and something that has enough free time. Horse breeder! They make a shit ton of money out of breeding horses from former champions, right? Sounds like you could stop at any time and take a vacation. The most responsibility probably has your vet.”

Another incredulous look and despite knowing he had guessed wrong again, it felt like the opposite. This was  _ fun _ .

“No sex work.”, Andrew stated with a straight face and without any intonation. And Neil really laughed at that. He couldn’t even say why. Maybe the whole situation was just very absurd or Neil just had a very bad kind of humor. Nevertheless, he nearly laughed for half a minute straight.

“You are hilarious.”

“And you are hiding your laugh in your arm.”

Oh, he did that, did he? He sobered up pretty quickly and shrugged: “Old habit.”

He waited for Andrew to ask further, but he didn’t, so Neil relaxed again. Because he didn’t want the situation to get awkward, he just searched for another guess: “Broker?”

Andrew grunted a  _ “ugh, math” _ , like nothing happened and just kept gambling.

Neil huffed, affronted: “Math is cool, you heathen!”

Andrew now looked him straight in the face: “ _ Cool, _ he says. A math nerd. I got myself a math nerd. Of all the hookers in the world, I got the one with… what? … a math degree?”

“Not everyone can attend college.” That came out harsher than intended. He had wanted… did want to go to college and maybe he could, if he just moved out of vegas, but he found a place here. He… liked it here. He kind of liked his job, even if it wasn’t his dream job. But it worked, he survived and he didn’t want to start over somewhere else. This was his, but it also meant that he couldn’t attend college… or get a highschool degree for that matter.

“Not an excuse for thinking of math as  _ cool. _ And you call me a fucking heathen.”

It went a bit more strained after that. Andrew bought him water and after asking another bourbon. Andrew made more pauses this time and they ate together twice. That meant the actual gambling time was a bit reduced, but Andrew seemed okay with that. Andrew stayed at the craps table all night and their somewhat stilted conversation took a more casual path. They kind of talked about everything and nothing and so the evening went by not exactly quick but endurable.


	4. Not today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day :3  
> I thought I surprise you with a new chapter.
> 
> I know it is small but I am struggling with withdrawel symptoms from my Antidepressants right now. I have a very new appreciation for Andrew playing full games through this shit, believe me. I am very happy when this is done.  
> But even if it is small I thought it is better than nothing^^  
> Please don't blame me for any mistakes, there might be more than usual. 
> 
> Enjoy! And take care of yourself. Even if you are single: The most important person in your life is you, so take time for yourself today :3

“How much for the next six to eight hours?”

Neil slew the bourbon slowly in his glass. “That has to get old at some point.”

“Maybe when you name a reasonable price.”

Neil lifted an eyebrow and smiled slyly: “With you willingly paying the price? Never.”

He was antsy today, restless. It might have to do with the recent reappearance of his nightmares. It happened only once or twice a year by now. Being a hooker helped with that in an unexpected way. Letting people pay for his services added a layer of control in his life he never knew he needed, which in part was a reason why he liked the job so much.

“Not today”, he answered and prepared for arguing with Andrew about it. He wouldn’t be able to sit still for long enough to make this work and if he was really honest with himself: Today he craved a good fuck. He knew it wouldn’t bring him what it brought to others, but while he had sex his head could get blissfully empty. He had to concentrate so much on not slipping up, on making sure his John wouldn’t notice his lack of a proper reaction, that nothing else was able to occupy his mind. The only thing better than that was running, but that wouldn’t bring him any money.

Andrew just shrugged and sat down on a stool a few places down from Neil.

“Really, I am not interested”, he said again, just to be sure.   
“I heard you the first time.”

Andrew, again, surprised Neil. But at this point that wasn’t something new. Because he respected Neil’s decision, he didn’t ask Andrew about sex again and just stood there and drank his drink.

“Did you eat?”, Andrew asked and Neil sighed.

“I am not your problem tonight.”

Andrew hummed in agreement, a sound Neil was only barely able to hear over the noise around them.

“But we both know that whoever will pay you tonight won’t take proper care of you and you will be to stupid to do it yourself.”

“What a high opinion you have of me.”

He wasn’t totally wrong, of you course, but Neil would eat eventually. Maybe not that evening, but in the morning for sure. He wasn’t completely stupid after all.

“What do you want in return?”, he asked instead of antagonizing Andrew further. He couldn’t say no to a free meal, but he wouldn’t waste too much time on it.

Andrew was silent for a very long time before he hummed again: “What would you be willing to give in return?”

“Not what I asked.” But of course Neil didn’t get a proper answer.

“I would consider a blowjob, but you won’t let me give you one. I won’t sit on you today, so the only thing I am able to give you is my company.”

Andrew seemed to consider that and finally turned far enough in the stool to look at Neil directly. As always it sent a small rush through his body that he had been able to make Andrew look at him.

“How about a truth then?”

_ Oh, interesting _ . Neil should be used to this thought by now, but it took him by surprise again every time.

“I’m not telling you my name and I pay upfront so I can say no if I don’t want to answer.”

“Fair enough.”

Andrew turned to look at the back of the bar again taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Why a hooker?”, Andrew asked after a minute or two. “There are other things you can do without proper education. Working in retail, bartending, washing dishes. Not the best paid jobs, but at least you wouldn’t sell yourself.”

“You have an awfully conservative view on prostitution.” Neil signed the barkeeper to refill his glass. If Andrew would tend to his meal, he could afford another drink. Of course the other man wouldn’t respond to that. For one it wasn’t a question and two it was Neil’s turn to answer. So he thought about it while sipping on his bourbon.

“First it was born out of necessity. I ran into some problems and wasn’t able to get my hands on something to eat. So when a guy came to me and said he would give me money for a blowjob I took the offer. It was kind of awful to be honest. But it was easy money and I could do it while staying under the radar. I got used to it, like you get used to a lot of jobs. And I got better at it and at some point it really was just a job and it comes with certain things that I really like. I don’t need a pimp because I can look after myself and I created my own place at this hunting ground. I can say ‘no’ if I don’t want to go with a guy or a woman. I can stop whenever I want to stop and no one would notice if I just decided to move on to another city. The job gives me control over my life. I am in full control of the situation at any time. I don’t have to be polite to a customer like I would have to be in retail and I don’t have to listen to bullshit and smile as I should do as a barkeeper. And it pays better. I also can take days off if I want. Of course not everything is perfect. Sometimes the sex is too rough or a customer behaves shitty. There is the threat of STDs, too. But everything has its downsides. It’s okay. The job gives me what I need right now and if I don’t want to do it anymore I will stop.”

Andrew hummed his understanding before sliding a menu in his direction. A clear sign that he accepted his payment.

Neil ordered one of the fruit salads and some camembert with lingonberries.

“What about lawyer?”, Neil asked after a few minutes of silence, while he was waiting for his dinner.

“Too stressful.”

Neil let his sharp grin show he barely showed anyone else, because most people were afraid of it. He assumed right that Andrew was absolutely unaffected by it, but he looked at him again. Win!

“Not if you are a bad one.”

Andrew huffed in amusement: “Touché. But I have too high moral standards for it.”

“To be a bad lawyer?”

“Just to be one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments keep me alive <3  
> Hit me with all your thoughts and feels.


End file.
